


Born This Way

by smolpandabean



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 1920s, Albinism, Alternate Universe - Mobfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Bara Sans (Undertale), Explicit Language, Gang Violence, I'll Explain Later, Just violence in general, MC gets hurt a lot, Mild Gore, Multi, Non-Binary Frisk, Non-Binary Main Character, Puns & Word Play, Selectively Mute Frisk (Undertale), Selectively Mute Main Character, Touch-Starved, ish, the biggest boi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:02:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20306908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolpandabean/pseuds/smolpandabean
Summary: Living on the streets of Ebbot City was hell enough for someone with nothing, that is, until you get picked off the street by the head honcho of the largest syndicate in the Mafia. After saving his youngest son and said son getting attached to you, Antonio Mahoney saw potential in you and raised you alongside his three sons. The Mahoney family gave you everything, a name, a family, a job, a purpose.When the monsters were freed from the Underground, it stirred something in the syndicates across the city and in you. The doctors claimed you were healthy but something was off when you were around monsters. Now with them creating their own group and clearing out the little shitty groups that were nothing but trouble, Boss now wanted to make deals, conduct trades, and work with them to stay in their good graces. A smart move considering the magic and Souls ordeal that was flooding the news.Maybe, just maybe, you can get some answers from these guys, if they were willing to bargain. Especially that big skeleton- wait, what?





	1. How to Save A Life

The winter season was in full force with piles of cold, wet snow in your usual spots, forcing you to find different places to try and not freeze to death in your sleep. Like hell you were going back to grovel and beg that bitchy harlot of a _’caretaker’_ at the orphanage, you left that place for good.

”Please, I need to get home. My pops will worry if I’m not back soon.” A voice from the alley ahead whimpered, cut off by a gruff older voice. “Oh we know ya pops, kid. And we got some problems wit him, so you’re gonna help us out…” Oooh how you hated that voice, Frank ‘Mad Dog’ Martin had a reputation for kidnapping, playing dirty, and being an all around, complete asshole to children. His drug smuggling was often hindered by his own addiction to his goods and withdrawal made him live up to his name. You figured this poor kid was from one of the many families Mad Dog had beef with, so the treatment he would get from being held ransom wouldn’t be a good one, the black, blue, and bloody variety.

If you wanted this kid to be safe, you had to strike fast and hard. Frank didn’t care who you were, if you messed with him, you die. Plain and simple. Peeking into the alleyway, you could see Frank and one of his lackeys cornering a scrawny kid, holding him by the scruff of his jacket. If you died saving this brat, you’re haunting his ass.

”Who the fuck- Hey!” Acting fast, you kicked down his lackey via a foot to the jewels and hitting the ringer when his face was close enough to punch. Mad Dog dropped the kid and gave you his full, furious attention. “You’re dead, kid!” You wanted to snort at his lame fighting words, dodging his powerful swings. You’ve seen him break a man’s back with one punch, so you stuck with avoiding him hits. Thankfully the kid had some smarts in him and scrambled away from the fight, allowing room for you to jump around not get him in the line of fire.

”This ain’t none of ya business, kid! Get outta here if you wanna live.” You ducked under his wide swing and went for his knee, snagging a dull knife from the dumpster earlier was the smartest thing you’ve done. The man above you howled in pain as you twisted the blade in his leg, shoving you shoulder to knock Mad Dog on his ass and take him down a notch like you’ve wanted to for so long.

”H-hey now, we don’t havta do this. I-I’ll leave, I swear!” He was groveling, a twisted smile etching itself into your face. He was _groveling_, the big Mad Dog was begging for his life to a child. Your face settled into a lazy smirk, chuckles getting lost in the howling wind. “Nah.”

Using the knife to swipe his hand away, you threw punch after punch, not caring if he was knocked out or dead. His face becoming a bloody mess before delicate hands grabbed your wrist, almost punching the kid you saved.

”Stop! Stop, he’s already dead!” You let out a huff of air and got off the corpse, blood and sinew freezing onto you knuckles as the kid rubbed his eyes, trying to keep them from freezing shut from the tears. He looked unharmed, if not a bit roughed up around the edges. That’s when you could see the similarities.

This kid was Mahoney’s baby boy, the man was the leader of the largest group in the city and, unlike Mad Dog, his line of work hadn’t royally fucked with his head. Mahoney was a civil gentleman, even generous, using his business to help the people in his territory. You had met his wife, the Matroness, once and she gave you some scraps from the bar they controlled.

”Thank- thank you… Uh-hey! Hold on!” The kid, Alphonse, if you remember correctly, grabbed your arm before you could walk off. “Your hurt a-and you don’t have anywhere else to go, right? Come home with me, mama will let you stay the night.” If you knew one thing, this kid was likely stubborn like his old man, so you let him pull you to the nicer side of the city. The wind had died and that brought a few people out from hiding, giving the two of you looks as a well-dressed son of the mafia dragged a dirty, bloody street rat like you were his best friend. You glared at those that tried to approach you two, getting protective over the little marshmallow.

”Alphonse Fredrick Mahoney, where have you been!-oh?” A saint of woman opened the door of the house, the Matroness, stood before you in a thick dressing gown, staring at you with curious blue eyes that her baby son inherited. Said baby boy shuffled his feet, not meeting her gaze.

”Mama, this person saved me! I-I was cornered by a man that had some beef with pops and-and they-!” The Matroness coddled her boy as he started to cry, the context of the event resonating with him. She gestured you to follow as she guided her boy to the kitchen. Out of common courtesy, you removed you holey, dirt-crusted shoes at the door and stood off to the side as she sat with Alphonse. The house was warm, well decorated with family photos and paintings of landscapes. You became very aware of how filthy you were compared to the spick and span house you were in.

”Who was the man that cornered you, baby? Papa would like to have some words with him when he wakes up.” Alphonse didn’t respond, he didn’t know. He looked to you, tears trailing down his freckled cheeks as you sighed. “Mad Dog. He’s dead.” You muttered, voice strained from lack of use, but you’re words had the Matroness looking you over with trained eyes. Seeing your bloodied knuckles and dirty frame had her walking over, freezing you in place as she picked up your soiled hands with gentle touches.

”What’s your name, darling? I’ve seen your face before, but I didn’t catch a name.” You shrugged. Not remembering a name from before or after the orphanage and never taking a name for yourself, didn’t seem right when you did. Your hands shook in her grasp, from the cold still in your bones or fear, you didn’t know.

”Odette, is Al home?” A deep, baritone voice called from the hallway and in walked the big boss himself, clad in thick pajamas and house slippers. Antonio Mahoney spotted his wife holding the bloody hands of some dirty stranger in his home and pulled a gun out of nowhere. “Doll, who the hell is that?” Alphonse hopped out of his seat to your side.

”Pops, they saved me! Don’t shoot, please.” Al gripped his little hands in your threadbare jacket, Odette pulling the both of you behind her. “Mad Dog tried taking our boy and this child put him down for good. They don’t even have a name, Toni, _a name._” You watched Antonio put the pieces together and put the gun away, turning back into the hallway, muttering something about a kit.

”Pops is gonna fix ya hands, is that okay?” C’mon and sit, mama could you them something to eat please?” Al’s sweet voice worked its charm over his mother, fixing up some steaming soup and sandwiches for both of them. You sat down in stupor as how your life had from looking for a place to sleep to getting served and fixed up by the most powerful couple in the mafia. Al shifted uncomfortably as his pops came back in with a box in hands and phone tucked between his shoulder and ear.

”Check the alleyways, the ones between the school and my place. If he’s not there then follow the trail, he’s not getting away with pullin’ that shit. Yep, bye.” Antonio sat down beside you, pulling one of you hands away as Odette exchanged the empty soup bowl for steaming water and a red towel. He turned it over, examining the busted knuckles as he washed away the blood.

”Is that…?” With a tweezer he pulled a sliver of blood coated material, washing it away revealed, “A tooth? How hard did you hit him, Kiddo?” Wrapping up your hands and putting away the kit, Odette tried to get Al to go to bed, but he wasn’t having it. His dad even tried but Al wanted to stay with you, and when you went to bed, he would too.

”Then I’ll be quick about this, since you have school in the morning, young man.” He went from fatherly stern to head honcho as he looked at you, still a dirt covered street rat with the exception of your hands. “Alphonse likes you, that’s good. I would’ve kicked you out once he went to bed, but that’s not the case anymore.” He looked down at your hands then back to your face, you focused on his face, anywhere but his eyes.

”I’ll make you a deal: you grow up with Alphonse, protect him and keep him company. At the same time, you work for me and work your way up.” He stuck his hand out to you, a casual smile on his face. “There’s some potential in you, with the right teachers you could be a good fighter.” Looking between the man’s face and his hand, you weighed your options. Don’t accept: back to the streets with a target on your back. Accept: dramatically shorten your lifespan but gain a job and maybe a family.

”Okay.” And shook his hand, mindful of your bandages. His smile became warm, other hand clapping over your shoulder. “Good choice. Now, lets you cleaned up. What orphanage did you run away from? Wait, don’t tell me, Francis’s Orphanage on 5th street?” You nodded, nose wrinkling at the thought of going back.

”I agree with your expression, that lady should not be working with children. We’ll get things official and get you in the books, but you need a name.” You were stumped at that, names didn’t work or didn’t fit right with you. You scratched your nose when Al clapped his hands. “I got it! Jo, just J-O. Plain, simple, and neutral.” Jo Mahoney? You liked it, giving the boy a thumbs up. You had a name and soon a family, you couldn’t ask for anything else.


	2. Don't Fear The Reaper

Alright, it’s official, you hated high school. Not even the first day goes by without someone making a big deal about you. Whether it’s because you don’t talk, looked like a _‘sissy boy’_ or a _‘butch woman’_, or the fact that you were always with the class angel, Alphonse. The Mahoney family had adopted you four years ago, Alphonse and Odette adjusting right away while Boss and his two older boys, Micheal and Vinciet, took longer. They adjusted faster when you started doing your job, taking _’messages’_ to certain people.

Boss still called you Kiddo while the rest of the crew were trying to come up with a codename for you. You shrugged, not really caring, names weren’t your thing.

**It could be _’Jo Kidding’_** That had everyone slapping your hands, saying the puns weren’t your gig either much to Vinciet’s hyena laughter and the Boss himself hiding his smile. Outside of work with the boss and school, you followed Al to his piano lessons and helped Odette, who insists you call her mom, with her growing floral shop. She loved botany and made the flower arrangements for Mad Dog’s funeral, along with many others. Some of them were by your hands, which didn’t sit well with her.

”Jo my dear, you still have a future ahead of you. Why taint it with bloodshed?” Her questions brought reality down on your head, dragging you into depressive episodes that the brothers other pulled you from. After the second year of living with the Mahoney family, Odette forced you to go to a shrink, who diagnosed you with both generalized anxiety and clinical depression. Taking the meds made you better…-ish, you stopped visiting that shrink when you were targeted by the Kollowoski Brothers, pinning the shrink as a spy and sending him a clear _‘message’._

”Hey, your Mahoney’s kids, right?” An older kid stopped in front of both you and Al as the two of you ate lunch. Nobody sat within three feet of your pair with you staring everyone down and Alphonse wanting to get started on his math homework while complaining about how they dished it out on the first day.

”Yeah, what of it? You got beef with us too?” Al snapped, not in the mood and neither were you, the older kid stammered like a moron before scrambling away when you turned your glare on him. “Don’t people have any sense of self control?” He grumbled, trading off your pear for his apple. You didn’t blame the Matroness for mixing up your lunches, she had to raise you and three boys, it was a lot to remember and you try to help as often as possible.

~~

”Did they really give you homework on the first day? Huh, times are changing.” Michael mused as you and Al worked on your homework together at the table, Vinciet being out with his girlfriend and baby mama while Odette and Boss were having dinner. Michael was older than you and Al by five years while Vinciet by three, making Alphonse the youngest since you were a month older.

You hummed, drawing a shitty hand flipping the bird, crumpled it up, then threw it at Michael's head. It bounced off his cheek and skittered around the table before coming to a stop. He glanced a you, who had already gone back to your math and hating your very existence, and opened the crumpled paper, letting out a snort when the shitty drawing came into view.

”Jo- pfft, what the hell?” Alphonse snagged the paper and started laughing too, Michael gaining tears in his eyes and slapping the table. It brought a smile to your face, a rare one, but it was there. You panicked when the parents came home to their boys laughing their asses off at the table and shoved the little note in your mouth.

”What’s so funny boys?” Odette asked, eyebrows raised and hands on her hips, Boss was behind her, looking tired and rubbing his face. Michael managed to calm down but started laughing when he tried to explain it, Alphonse kicking up another laugh. You shrugged when the two looked to you for an explanation, trying no to swallow the wad of paper in your mouth.

~~

”Kiddo, I got another message that needs to be sent.” Boss waved you over, handing off some files to Michael, or ‘Sunny’ with his natural blonde mane. The man never smoked or drank, the Matroness hated the smell of tobacco and alcohol, you did too but you could handle it during shipment day. “Make sure this one _really_ gets it. He’s been a bad man and should be made an example of” He handed you a file and dismissed you to your good friend, Old One-Eye. He was the oldest member and the sector’s weapons dealer, keeping everyone armed and the weapons in perfect condition. One-Eye didn’t like you at first, but then you kicked the shit out of a mole that was tampering with his ‘babies’ and you grew on him.

”Another? You’ll be breakin’ yer own hands wit all this fightin’ you’ve done.” You looked at your hands, and sure, there was some bruising but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. You motioned for him to get going, you wanted to get this done and sleep.

”I just feckin’ cleaned them too. Boss needs to hire more thrill seekers if he’s keepin’ this one around…” You wanted to joke with the old man take it took a lot to kill you, but you needed to save your energy for sending the message. It wasn’t far, so it wasn’t going to take long. Making an example of someone didn’t take long once they were dead.

The meeting place was in a warehouse that stored farming equipment, giving you some options of making the message clear. This stringy bastard had been skimming payments and other bad shit that Boss’s crew look bad, the worst of it was that he was leaving a trail for the police to trace back. It was your job to make an example, to the other syndicates but to your own people as well.

”Teh fuck you here for, freak? Where’s teh boss?” You resisted your feral smile when you saw who your message was for. Justin Wellsmen was a royal pain in your ass, with the comments on both you and Vinciet being constant. You didn’t mind when he targeted you, but targeting your brother for his albinism was uncalled for and you were more than happy to teach the fucker some manners.

”Message for you.” You rasped once you got close, introducing your trusty brass knuckles to his ribs and face. Justin tried his damndest to fight back but you were the better fighter, he nicked your cheek until you went for the opening on his ribs again. Hearing the crunch of bones beneath his pathetic screams, white noise on your ears.

”Kid, I-I’m sorry fer what I did, don't-don’t kill me please!” Justin begged as you hummed a song that had been stuck in your head for the past several days, trying to decide which piece of equipment would make him _get his message._ When you spotted it, an old style, two-handed wood handle scythe sitting in the corner, with an idea, you grabbed it and turned back to your target, drinking in the fear in his eyes.

”Please, Please! I’ll do anything, don’t kill me please!” He was crying now, the smell of urine filling the area. You wrinkled your nose and took aim. His scream cut off when your swing went too low and the wide blade through the flesh of his cheeks and released a spray of blood. He gargled pleas as you adjusted your grip and swung.

** _SCHUNK_ **

You had to swing twice before his head bounced off the concrete floor, his body twitching and knocking over the chair it was tied to. You were struck with another idea and scooped up the head, pulling out a switchblade and kicking the chair upright.

~~

**_”MAN FOUND DEAD IN WAREHOUSE; THE REAPER STRIKES AGAIN”_** You glanced at the main title of the newspaper Boss had slapped down in front of you, the photo of the bloody scythe you used and a silhouetted photo of Justin Wellsmen’s body along with the article. Boss clapped a hand on your shoulder, shaking it like a proud father, a smile on his face.

”You’ve earned yourself a name, congratulations Kiddo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that Jo's name is a joke in a way, like a knock knock joke/pick-up line.  
Knock knock!  
Who's there?  
Jo!  
Jo who?  
Jo Mahoney? Let's get some dinner together.


	3. New Kids On The Block

”_The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led._ Edgar Allan Poe. Now why do I say this?” You smiled up at Alphonse as he gave his speech, the valedictorian of your graduating class. You sat amongst your classmates in a sea of black caps and gowns, your family sitting on the bleachers to the side. You could see tears in Mom’s eyes as she watched her baby boy with pride.

Al earned his scholarship to a prestigious music school in New York City and everyone, even you, encouraged him to go, to get away from Ebbot City and live his life. He was the sunshine child that outshined Michael with his musical skill and beaming positivity, working hard for everything he wanted.

You, on the other hand, were simple, in the background and content with that. Nobody questioned your bruised and bandaged hands, learning to leave your brother alone so they didn’t have you deal with you. You weren’t there to make friends, just to graduate and get back to work. After being dubbed _’The Reaper’_, you got promoted from lackey to enforcer, earning the respect of those in the syndicate. You didn’t care for it, but when Mom had cried in front of you after the fifth body, you let up on the punishments, letting them live with permanent scars.

Vinciet had twins with his wife, Boss placing him further back from the front lines as _’The Bookkeeper’_ when he came back from college with a Bachelor’s in Business. His albinism made him a shit shot but he was quick with numbers, even more so with snatching up his baby girls when they tried jumping on you and Michael. Said oldest remained single at his parents confusion, until he brought home Archie, who the family accepted with open arms. Archie became your brother-in-law the spring they adopted Ricky, your darling nephew who was selectively mute, like yourself. This let you two bond quickly, making you the best babysitter for the brothers.

From your seat you could see the three getting restless, Archie and Marina alternating between listening to the speech and distracting the kids. Little Odile, who looked like her mother from her wide, button nose to her petite stature, wasn’t having _anything_ fussing in Vinciet’s lap while Clara, who had albinism like her dad, fell asleep in Marina’s.

”The torch has been passed onto us, so that we may light the way to a brighter future. For everyone we come across, no matter what. Ladies, gentlemen, and enbys, the class of- oh hey, dear.” The auditorium filled with a mix of laughter and awes as Clara ran to her Uncle Al, who bent down to scoop her up and finish his speech with cheer. Applause roared as you and your classmates chucked your hats into the air, following confetti and glitter raining down from party poppers student had hidden in their sleeves. That night, you and Alphonse were celebrated loudly by the family and the crew, as your little brother was leaving for college the next day. It would be the first time Alphonse went somewhere you couldn’t follow.

~~

”Hey, I think I see something coming from the mountain. Let’s check it out.” Not even a month after you graduated and Al was shipped off to college, Michael and Vinciet started spending more time with you, or were trying to. You were all but ignored by them as a kid and now their sudden interest in you was off-putting with them dragging you everywhere.

The amount of time you had to save their asses from getting into trouble or starting a bar fight has grated on your nerves, only playing nice to not upset anyone in the family. When they shoved you, you shoved back harder, never smiling at them or talking to them. You just wanted to help Mom get the shop ready for the summer.

”I’ll drive. Vinny’s still working on numbers, so it’ll just be us.” You sighed, weighing your options of jumping out to the car on the hour drive to the mountain or committing fratricide and skipping town. Both had too many problems and heavy consequences, so you settled with wearing your headphones for the entire drive while occasionally flipping your brother the bird when he yanked one out to blab on about random shit. How Archie puts up with your sunshine brother would be the mystery novel of the decade.

~~

”Wow, ok. Police cars and news reporters, my bad.” You wanted to punch the dumbfounded look off Michael's face as he stopped the car near the herd of news vans and police cars, hell a SWAT truck was parked on the side. Your brother’s bright red ‘36 Tantra 75 stuck out like a sore thumb slathered in neon and strobe lights. You shrugged off your jacket, rolled your sleeves, and pulled out your notebook you blend in with the yellow journalists that were trying to get around the officers. Michael following behind you with Archie’s camera hanging off his neck as you got the attention of the local state trooper, Officer Maxson Ward. He pays your Boss protection fees since his last home was set ablaze by the Arsonists Coven, he recognized you and your brother as a news crew walked off, the anchor lady looking pissed off.

”What’s the story, Ward?” Michael offered his Megawatt smile while you glared over your notebook, the summer heat affecting the older man as he sweated stain into his uniform. He eyed you but kept his attention on your brother, relaying what he knew for the 100th time.

”Remember those stories of the Great War between Humans and Monsters? Apparently a kid that went missing two months ago fell down there and freed them. We’re waiting for government officials to arrive so they can start negotiating with the King and Queen.” You scribbled down notes, planning to rewrite them into a report for the Boss, he’d want to know about this. Micheal thanked Ward for the info and the two of you left, Michael leaving you alone to write your report, but still dragged you into lip-syncing to _’Uptown Girl’_.

~~

”Monsters from the Underground? Huh, the stories were true after all…” Boss set down your report, running a hand over his salt ‘n pepper hair, the only indication of his age. Vinciet and Micheal were off to the side, Mom looking over her husband’s shoulder while you dabbed disinfectant onto your knuckles. You tended to zone out when they all stared talking business, you kept people in line and acted as Boss’s bodyguard. No need to stick your fingers in where you didn’t work.

”We’ll see if they will be willing to work with us, but in the meantime.” Boss tapped the table, getting your attention. “There will be folk who are gonna try and harm our potential clients. You and some of the crew are on guard duty while they get settled in. I can already tell some sectors are going to be a problem.” You nodded, writing down the members that you knew could hold their own in a fight with or without guns and handed the list off to Vinciet, who started typing up orders to send out. Alone in your thoughts, you remembered hearing a hum of sorts from the mountain. It was faint enough that you could ignore it, but loud enough to be noticed. Better keep this to yourself, Mom already worries about the psychological effect of your job and the separation anxiety from Alphonse moving several states away.

~~

It took six months before the monsters could integrate into the city, having to put up with the government and news outlets debating whether or not they were even people. With anti-monster groups popping up only to be scattered by your crew, you had your hands full and the newspaper brought up the question of The Reaper being dead. You paid no mind to it when you sent a message to the Arsonists Coven, them being openly against monsters and targeted the Monster Ambassador, _a child._ Oh, how you smiled when they began to cry, begging for mercy.

_**”THE REAPER RETURNS TO PROTECT THE MONSTERS!”**_ That news article was everywhere, even TV news stations talked about it. You broke a finger pounding the Coven Leader’s face in, the only thing Mom was upset about thankfully. The patrols were either boring as hell or like rush hour in a diner, jumping drunk or stupid assholes that were harassing monsters as they tried living their daliy lives.

”Thank you, H-human. I don’t know what he was going to do.” A Rabbit monster had stopped you from walking off after dumping a drunk into a dumpster in the alleyway. The fur on her paws was soft as you tried waving her off but she held on, shuffling her large feet.

”Uh, I’m actually lost, can you help me get to _’White Swan’s Floral’_? I-I have an interview there.” Huh, Mom mentioned a monster had applied but you were so busy that you didn’t know if they had taken the job or not. Shanking out of your thoughts you pulled out your notebook.

_”I’m heading there now, I can give you a lift. My mother owns the shop.”_ Reading your note, the rabbit monster introduced herself as Rabbitha, her sister ran the ‘Snowd’Inn’ in the monster district and she wanted to branch out. You raised a brow as she accepted your offer of driving her there without question, though her reasoning was solid.

”You said your mother ran the shop and you saved me from whatever that human was going to do, I’m going out on a limb to trust you.” She took your outstretched arm as you lead her to your car, trying to be a gentleperson as much as possible, and kept to your word.

Rabbitha wasn’t too far from where you needed to go and accepted your arm again as you walked her in, going as far as to open the door for her. The humming you heard from the mountain was emanating from the monster beside you, loud by proximity and a pitch lower than her voice. If Boss wanted you to work with monsters, you’d have to get used to the humming, but you wanted to know what caused it.

”Jo, you’re early, is something- oh? Rabbitha, correct? I’m Odette Mahoney. I see you’ve met one of my children.” Your mother beamed, knowing that you were both safe, and that you had done your job in protecting your charges. “Yes, thank you for offering this opportunity, I’ll work hard, I promise!” Rabbitha beamed, the hum getting louder with her emotions. Mentally pocketing that info for later, you trailed behind Mom and your new co-worker as Odette gave the monster a tour and run down on what goes on in the shop.

”I always make sure that the people I hire are respectful to each other and to our customers. We recently lost a few employees due to… differences in political opinions.” Rabbitha either caught on and didn’t show it or it went over her lop-eared head, you figured the latter as the hum pitched even lower. Anxiety? Seemed logical with how some humans are and the interaction with that drunk moron from earlier. Maybe something with a surface rabbit’s heart bpm had something to do with a Rabbit monster’s hum pitch… or something, you really wanted to ask but didn’t know how to articulate it into writing or words.

After the tour, Mom had Rabbitha shadow you in order to get the jist of what to do, keeping you company and an eye on the new employee. She was chatty, but that was her nerves she admitted. It filled the silence when she figured out you weren’t going to say anything and your hands were full of potting soil and yanked out weeds.

”It’s okay, all monsters learned sign when the ambassador broke the barrier. Some of us can’t speak human language so we compensated the best we could.” This made you pause and stare wide-eyed at her. An entire race, that knows what your signing, and can sign back? You’ve definitely died and gone to some sort of messed up heaven, you brushed off your hands and faced her, tapping her shoulder.

**Hello, I’m Jo Mahoney, what’s your name?** You signed a proper greeting, making her smile brighter and the hum higher. **Hello, I’m Rabbitha Bun, nice to meet you.** The two you of signed back and forth, making your soul lighter as you’ve found a group of people who can understand you and talk back to you in the same fashion. You finished your work shift with telling your new friend some very stupid jokes that most people slapped your hands for, but Rabbitha just laughed and signed back her own jokes.

”I’d be careful on signing some of those jokes around monsters, they can and will, try to out-joke you. Especially a particular one.” You didn’t push her to elaborate as you two cleaned off the dirt and mud from your hands. The mud stuck to her grey fur and you noted to get or make gloves for her next shift as you heard her mutter curses. Walking to the door she paused and you knew why, already one step ahead of her.

**Where do you live? I can drive you home.** Rabbitha didn’t protest, thanking you and Mom for helping her. Giving your mom a look, she nodded and motioned for you to get going. You offered your arm to your friend and walked her to your car, a black Jaguar SS1 with an updated radio you could hook up to your phone via AUX cord, following Rabbitha’s directions took you deep into the Monster District. Monsters walking on the pavements looked you, a human, driving around a monster with curiosity or… something, some of them had unreadable facial features.

The humming was louder with the concentrate of monsters getting higher but you finally pulled into the driveway of her apartment, Rabbitha convinced you that she was fine to walk into the building alone since there weren’t any humans around but you. You waved to her as she stepped inside the building, a lightness in you that hadn’t been there in a long time. You drove back to Mom’s shop as you were also her ride home, ignoring the obvious side-eye from the monster you drove past again.

The hum went quiet as you drove you mom back to the house, only to get a touch louder when you went to your own apartment. It was the closest apartment complex to the Monster District, not that you were intending to spy on them, but it was enough distance from the house to give you independence, it was cheap, and your neighbors left you alone. The Boss didn’t like how you slept in the same room you ate and did your laundry in but Mom knew you were more minimalistic with your living space and got him off your back.

Back home you shared a room with Alphonse until Michael moved out, even with your own space you didn’t do much with it. The empty floor space was mostly used for spontaneous dance parties with Al and your cousin Annabeth. Anna loved dancing and choose you as her new dance partner since you didn’t have two left feet like Al, who sang and played better than he danced, and you got the hang of it fast. You kept your apartment clean and with enough space to practice dancing with her every once in a while.

**Annabee: _Hey jojo, wanna go dancing with Bobby and I tonight?_**

**JoKidding: _where @? Im not going to another rave w/ u_**

**Annabee: **Same. Nah, I was thinking the Jukebox Joint near the harbor. U up for it?****

****

****

**JoKidding: _sure, give me 10min, i c u there._**

**Annabee: _ See you then jojo!!_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, I think I've figured out a system for updating this. Write two chapters, get started on the third one and put up the two written... if that makes any sense.


	4. Footloose

The Jukebox Joint, appropriately named, was Annabeth’s regular place to drag you dancing with her bodyguard and boyfriend Bobby. You knew and liked the man, seeing the lovebirds together prior to Bobby’s job to protect the person he loved so much. Spotting them was like finding a pair of flamingos amongst a flock of chickens, Bobby was 6’4” and built like a brick house while Annabeth was a professional marathon runner and always sported her signature dyed violet ringlets. The couple had gone to France for Annabeth to compete in the Paris Marathon, finishing in the top ten and getting bear-hugged by her man at the finish line, that made the news with how cute they were.

”JoJo, honeybear! It’s so good to see you, all graduated and grown up!” Anna fussed over you as she always did, wiping her lipstick off your cheek when she as done smothering you. “How does it feel having not to go back to school anymore?” Bobby asked, clapping your shoulder and cracking your spine in his hug. He looked intimidating to the untrained eye but you and Annabeth knew he was a gentle giant who didn’t know his strength at times. They learned sign language for you, saving the papers of your notebooks.

**Weird, it’s quiet without Alphonse. Michael and Vinciet keep dragging my into trouble.** Anna’s favorite song came on, cutting the conversation short as she squealed and dragged you to the dancefloor. Recognizing her fast steps as swing, you copied her moves and swung her around, stamping, stepping, and twisting in time with the beat.

The next song was one everyone either knew and hated or knew and jumped in line to dance along with Annabeth and Bobby as you slid out and observed. It was a system you and Bobby had when it came to outings like this, taking turns watching for suspicious characters while keeping Annabeth entertained. Glancing at the couple dancing their hearts out to _’Footloose’_ made you snort a laugh, scanning the room from your barstool.

The low-pitched hum caught your ear beneath the music and your eyes caught onto it’s source. A giant skeleton sat toward the door of the place, three piece suit tailored to fit his massive frame and a fedora that was somehow staying on his skull. A jaw full of sharp teeth with a gold tooth glinting from the colorful lights above the dancefloor, red eyelights catching your stare as the permagrin grew.

**You new here? Don’t look the dancing type.** You signed to him, his sockets widening a tough before he pulled his hands out of his pocket. You wanted to get closer for a better look at the metacarpals and phalanges, seeing his radius and ulna from his rolled up sleeves.

**Keeping an _eye_ out for trouble, you?** He was doing what you were doing. Maybe he was apart of some monster equivalent of the police force, but he was dressed like your crew. You knew an undercover cop when you saw one, but this skeleton didn’t seem the type. **Looking out for trouble. Same as you.** He seemed satisfied with your answer as his eyelights turned away, leaving you to get back to watching. The hum ever present, relaxing in a way with how you knew he wasn’t here to cause trouble, but to prevent it.

Bobby and Annabeth meandered over to you after Footloose, ordering water and fries as the three of you sat down. You stayed out of conversation to not spoil anything Bobby was planning, since their next vacation to Italy he was going to propose to your cousin. Since they were discussing what sights they wanted to see, you kept watch, eyeing the new patron that sat a few stools over from you. Not liking how he settled eyes on Annabeth, she got looks from being a known marathoner and her good looks but that brought on stalkers and other unsavory folk that you taught lessons in common decency and sent messages to.

The bartender gave you a knowing look and jerked his head at the new guy, telling you that he was trouble without words. A bar predator, you felt your blood begin to boil as he never took his eyes off your group, subtly nudging your cousin with your leg. You warned the two about the guy when a drink was brought over by the bartender.

”It’s from that guy over there. Don’t drink it, he did somethin’ wit it.” The bartender, Jason, was one of your guys, the Jukebox Joint was operated under the Mahoney family. Like hell your guys were going to let weak little bastards like this guy pull shit like this. You scowled, grabbing the drink and marching over to the man, slamming it down next to him and yanking him by the collar.

”Keep your fucking drink.” You snarled, letting him drop to the floor and stalking away. Your hands shook with anger, dragging your thumb across your canines to not kick his teeth in while Annabeth ran her fingers through your hair, commenting that you needed to cut it.

_Send him a message, teach him a lesson, **kill him.**_ The thoughts echoed in your head as you tried breathing, chewing on your thumb until Annabeth pulled it out of your mouth, holding it in her hands to ground you. Jason brought over your favorite drink to try and cool you off, a Neapolitan milkshake with hot fudge. The drink’s sweet and icy goodness lessened the fire in you, but the man was still at the bar, just not looking at your group anymore.

**He’s changing targets, someone should stop him.** You signed, hands still shaking. The two sighed, knowing that you were right but didn’t want to give you the approval of beating the snot out of the guy without the Boss’s permission. Milkshake gone and your temper cooled off, Annabeth and Bobby went back out on the dancefloor, keeping an eye on you just in case. Glancing around the skeleton was still in his seat, a basket of fries in front of him as he looked around, the fangs parting only slightly to allow the comically small fries to disappear into the black abyss behind his teeth.

A group of teens gathered at the bar, blocking your sight from the sleaze bag and Jason gave another signal. The fucker was trying to pull that shit with the kids. _\- Granted you weren’t that much older than them, but details._ When you spotted him popping up to talk to the group is when your patience snapped, getting off your barstool when you heard one of girls tell him she wasn’t interested, before he could say anything else, you stepped in with hellfire in your eyes. You didn’t give second chances to scum like him.

~~

Why the Don stuck him here was beyond Sans, but hey the food was halfway decent. Sans ignored the blatant stares and worried glances as he looked out for any trouble. What’s suspicious about a 6’7” skeleton in a three piece hanging out in a place that was full of young humans? A lot of things but the bartender didn’t give him any flak for it. He’d been here for no more than 45 minutes when the human gave him another order of fries when he didn’t ask.

_”I’ll keep them coming on the house so long as you keep an eye out. I appreciate the extra eyes, man.”_ The human’s words were strange but letting them roll around in his skull for a bit made him realize what the guy meant. He heard about humans kidnapping and doing things to other humans and even monsters were becoming targets of these kind of attacks. Made his marrow bubble when he heard that some were targeting the kid with that kind of shit, Frisk had been through hell going through the Underground and now they were getting shit on by the humans. No wonder they climbed the mountain.

A pair of humans caught his eyelight as one typed away on her phone, bright violet hair twisted up while the large, male human beside her kept an arm around her. Their souls were synced up, _\- a couple_, his mind provided for him. A third, more subdued and androgynous human joined them, the colorful female smothering them in kisses and hugs. Maybe Sans was wrong? It seemed that way when she dragged them to the dancefloor with glee, the two putting on a show of dance moves that even the obnoxious tin can would be impressed by. Their souls were not synced, so maybe they were relatives? Why Sans cared? He had no fucking clue.

The song changed and the two humans traded places, the male dancing as the other stared scanning the room. Seemed like a system the two had, Sans kept his eye on the one at the bar until their eyes drifted and stopped on him. He locked eyes with them and grinned a touch wider, sockets widening as they raised their hands to sign.

_”so watch-human knows sign? wonder if they know all monsters can sign.”_ He signed back, relaxing when they signed that they were watching out for trouble like he was. Taking his eyes off the human, he went over the room again, the song changing again and the two humans joined their friend at the bar. The door behind him opened and another male human walked in, stopping near the table before walking straight to the bar, and sitting a few stools away from the group. Sans didn’t have the CHECK his soul to figure out the guy was trouble, and hoped that the human keeping watch with him would figure that out too. The skeleton was pretty cozy where he was and hate to get up.

The barkeep from earlier went back and forth between the troublemaker and the group, a steely expression on his face. Sans decided to CHECK the androgynous human, and just in time to watch something he’d never seen before. Out of the hundreds of resets he’d witnessed, never once had he seen a human’s Soul turn **black.** The human snatched the drink out of the bartender’s hand, marched over to the sleaze-bag, and _lifted_ him out of his seat before dropping him. Their Soul was still black as the two other humans tried calming them down, worrying Sans that they might do something because of whatever was happening to their Soul.

With help from that drink the bartender gave, _\- Stars, he needed to know this guy’s name._ the black Soul lightened to its more natural color but it was still too dark from Sans’ point of view as the couple went back out. The sleaze was still there, and a crowd of younger humans came up to the bar and Sans could see the Soul turn pitch as they spotted the sleaze approach a young human when they snapped.

”Hey- what? Hey, let go of me!” The sleazy human tried pulling out of their grip as they dragged him past his table and out the door. The human’s companions coming back to find them gone, Sans sighed to himself, knowing that he _had_ to report this to that nut job and his older brother. He waited, wanting to see if the human with the black Soul will come back leveled up or with just some more experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this may seem to be going at a fast pace but just bear with me. also sans will get his puns, just not in chapter.


	5. The Fight Song

Ooh this fucker was going to get it, you were going to put him so close to death that he would shit himself if he even _looked_ in the general direction of a woman. It would be by your hands, and yours alone.

You dragged him out of the club and around the corner into the alley way, the bastard bitching and flailing to get away from your iron grip. With a hard shove, you pushed the man into the harsh brick wall, reaching into your pocket to grip around your brass knuckles.

**”Get. Up.”** Your voice didn’t sound like your own, something dark, not Jo Mahoney at all. It was _The Reaper_, the twisted grin threatening to split your face in half as you watched your _prey_ scramble to his feet. Dodging his pathetic swings with practiced ease, you hit twice in the ribs before your brass knuckles scraped across his jaw, knocking him down again. You told him to get up again, you were far from done.

You toyed with him a bit longer then remembered you had Annabeth and Bobby waiting, and they’ve never seen you after sending a message. That stopped you in your tracks, armored knuckles centimeters away from the man’s eye. You pulled back to look at the man on the edge of consciousness, deciding that you would not absolutely obliterate the guy just yet. If you caught him again, his head was going to replace his stomach.

With one last punch, you knocked him out and pulled the cheap handkerchief from his breast pocket. Going the extra mile and emptying out his pockets of the drugs he was slipping into girls’ drinks, saving them for the crew to analyze later and figure out where he got them. You resisted kicking your steel-toed shoes into his nether-regions for emphasis but went inside before you changed your mind. Instantly Annabeth snatched your hands away and dragged you to a table with water and burgers out.

”Jo Mahoney, you scared me. Don’t ever pull that kind of stunt again!” She fussed over your bruised knuckles, thought there wasn’t any blood that was yours this time. Bobby raising his brows in question, and knowing what he was asking you waited until your cousin was done unnecessarily wrapping your hands.

**No, I didn’t kill him. Taught a lesson, one he won’t forget later on.** You explained your plan to shut down the drug line that was selling this shit he had, writing it down in case someone from the cartel was watching and knew sign. It was unlikely, because humans are assholes, but you weren’t going to risk it.

The couple decided that was enough fun for tonight and you apologized for cutting it short. They said they didn’t blame you but you could tell that your outburst was part of it, it always was. Your temper hadn’t gotten any better since Alphonse moved out and you weren’t being sent for messages as much with the police keeping a close eye on all things monsters and money. You were getting wound up by your brothers and that sleaze was the straw that broke the camel’s back for you, if he charges assault you’re going to terrorize his stupid ass into silence.

~~

Sans could feel his spine crawl as he thought over what happened at the Jukebox Joint. The human’s soul turning black, when they returned it was back to its original color and watching their hands, he learned that you didn’t kill that sleaze-bag. The guy was found by the garbage man later that night and was arrested for possession of ‘date rape’ drugs, the human news anchor mentioned that _The Reaper_ may have been the one behind the assault, but the man didn’t say who it was.

Sans knew, hell he knew what the human looked like and after a quick search, he knew their cousin too. He couldn’t wrap his skull around how drastic their soul had changed, the shaking of their form and how quickly they snapped when the human tried to do the same thing after the first warning. Whatever they did to him, his was reevaluating his entire life in a hospital with four broken ribs, a fractured jaw, and one hell of an infection.

”Oh, you’re home, Sans. Thought you were going to Toriel’s tonight.” Gaster came up from the basement lab, seeing his brother sweating up a storm on the couch as news anchors argued on the TV. He went into the kitchen for something to eat when Sans walked in and sat at the island, wringing his hands out of habit.

”h-hey bro, u-uh i gotta question for ya. it’s about human souls…” He trailed off, not sure how to phrase it but Gaster was patient. “can, uh- can human souls turn black? it-its a stupid question nevamind ‘m bein’ paranoid.” Sans turned to escape while Gaster was musing over the question when the taller skeleton snagged him by his collar.

”An odd question, but I might have an answer to it in the archives. I’ll look there and get back to you, brother. Sorry that you have to wait.” Gaster was calm, Sans wasn’t going to get grilled for a ‘stupid question'. He waved off his brother, retreating. “don’t bust ya bones over it, bro. ‘m ok wit waitin’, take yer _thyme_.” He snickered and took a shortcut to his room before Gaster threw the said spice across the room. Sans was content to wait for an answer if something like what he saw was the result.

~~

”C’mon JoJo, I don’t have enough bridesmaids. Can you _please_ wear the dress for the ceremony? You can wear pants under it and take it off before the reception.” You wrinkled your nose at Annabeth’s puppy-dog eyes and the idea she had for a bridesmaid dress. “Please? It’s my wedding and I want you in it, honeybear.” You groaned, slipping down her couch like a slug and, adding to the dramatics, you threw your arm over eyes.

Now, you didn’t _hate_ wearing dresses, they were just inconvenient in your line of work, and scratchy, very, very scratchy. Mom had about three photos of you in a dress since you were adopted. The first was Mad Dog’s funeral, the second was your first day of school, and the third was Michael’s wedding as his ‘Enby of Honor’. In all of them you weren’t smiling, being told that you showing large emotions was terrifying and Alphonse was the only person you really smiled at.

The dress Annabeth wanted for her summer wedding, _\- Why? Why in the two bajillion degree heat?_ was a long, navy mermaid dress with flowing lace sleeves. It was beautiful, but you had to remind her that it was in _July_, the hottest month of the year in Ebbot City. That stopped her, which allowed you to look over the wedding plans set out on her dining room table.

Bobby had finally gotten the gaul to propose to Annabeth and almost four and a half years later were having the wedding at last. It had been that long since you’ve seen bone or skull of that skeleton from the incident. The fucker learned his lesson after going to jail for drug possession and that left a trail the crew traced to the drug line. With that shut down, the rates of rape and kidnapping dropped dramatically, but the police force took credit for it. Being a mobster was a thankless job.

**What’s with the dark colors? Trying to give everyone heatstroke? Quick way to earn your inheritance, I guess.** Annabeth shoved your arm as she tried to hide her laugh. “Bad Jo, don’t joke about that.” You shrugged as you flipped through the book that Annabeth put together for the wedding, all her ideas and the themes spanned a great deal of things. One caught your eye in particular and you pointed it out to her.

”Oh, my _‘Garden of Eden’_. I was thinking of that but I think it might be too mleh for Bobby’s relatives.” Clicking your tongue, you flipped through until you spotted her ‘Roaring 20s’ theme, it was perfect! You guys basically lived the 20s everyday!

”Ok, I can see where your coming from, but I want to think of my wedding as _my wedding_, not another day at work.” You nodded in agreement, getting back to page turning. You reached the end of the book before tapping your cousin’s shoulder. **Whatever the theme is, it’s _your_ wedding. Fuck what everyone else thinks, it’s your day, you should be happy.** Annabeth sighed, tears dripping down her cheeks but a smile on her face. She looked at you expectantly, which you finally gave in.

**Fine, I’ll wear a dress.** You stopped her before she could cheer, laying down your law. **But I’m being called the ‘Enby of Honor’ again. Mess that up and I will not show.** Annabeth nodded and hugged you close, dragging you into a long night of wedding plans and arguing over what kind of cake her fiancé liked better.

~~

You could feel your phone blowing up in your pocket as you slugged a motherfucker in the face, most likely being Michael asking why you weren’t at the most important meeting of your life. Boss had finally set up a meeting with the Monster syndicate and he forgot that you had a giant message to send that was going to make you late no matter what.

The Arsonists’ Coven had attempted many times to injure or kill the monster ambassador and the Royal family, a _big-fucking-nope_ in your books and Boss made the mistake saying you were off-leash for how you wanted to send it. This mistake brought you to tying up and beating the snot out of the Coven’s three leaders in their own warehouse, which was full of explosives and three miles outside of Ebbot. The perfect plan already made before you got to the city limits. The three men bloody and one missing his ear from twitching too much.

”Hehehe… You’ll never get rid of us. We’ll come back, and you’ll be begging for mercy!” The _Headmaster_, or Jamison Donnowich, cackled, the other two leaders looking uneasy at how your punishments had pushed him to hysteria. You didn’t even do much, but it was enough to send the fucker off his rocker as you finished wiring up all the explosives in the warehouse and wedged an industrial sized jar of rubber cement between their chairs. The charges went set to explode by the time you’d get to Boss’s warehouse, where the meeting was taking place.

”See you in Hell.” You called after them as cheerfully as you could muster, which wasn’t much. You locked the door and walked to your car, driving off casually so to not tip off the night shift police patrol, steering while you set a timer for when the explosion would happen, solely for dramatics if you made it early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sick with seasonal allergies, so updates might slow down. i'm ok, just feeling like I got hit by a car. no biggie. btw did ya'll know that rubber cement is extremely flammable and is basically napalm? I learned that in a Good Mythical Morning video.


	6. Killer Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we get to meet the rest of the gang finally!

Sans could probably fall asleep standing as Asgore and Toriel talked business with ‘Slim’, the boss and leader of the Mahoney syndicate. The man was all smiles even when he mentioned that one of their members was running late to the meeting, which peeved Paps off from Sans just knowing his brother. Mettaton, the annoying ass rust bucket, was on tour and couldn’t make the meeting.

”As you know, we’ve been keeping the streets as safe as we can for monsters. I wanted you to be settled before we conduct business.” The human, who looked up in the age by the whitening of his hair, smiled, his wife beside him looked as pale as Gaster’s bones, her name ‘Matroness’ fitting her motherly demeanor. ‘Sunny’ and ‘The Bookkeeper’ were obviously their children, judging by their facial features. Sans was close to snoring when the side door to the warehouse opened.

The human with the black soul walked in, manila folder tucked under their arm as blood spattered and dripped from their hands. A quick CHECK determined that they had beat the snot out of several people but the light in their eyes said something else. Sauntering up to their boss with a quick nod in his direction, a noise of confusion from Asgore.

”Message…” They trailed off, looking at their watch and holding up three fingers. The slow countdown ended with a shudder of the windows, a sudden light coming out of nowhere followed by sirens. “Sent.” They finished, voice hoarse as they handed their boss the blood smeared folder. Slim’s eyes widen a fraction before turning to the king and queen. Sans had never heard them talk, only sign. Their voice sounded like it wasn’t used often but had warm tone to it, a smile that wasn’t present on their face.

”This is Reaper, if you need someone to be dealt with, be it a message to be sent or a lesson to be taught. They will have it done.” He handed the folder to Bookkeeper, who took it with a pinch of his two fingers and a wrinkled nose. “Get cleaned up ‘n rejoin us, now.” With their order, Reaper walked off and Sans wanted to scratch his sockets out as they went on with discussions of trade.

Sans wasn’t surprised that Reaper did this line of work but he didn’t expect them to be that destructive, the sirens still going in the distance. He kept his eye on the door they disappeared behind, wanting to do another CHECK in case the deaths transferred despite the death not being by the human’s hands but they still caused them.

~~

How you got blood in your hair? No clue but is was a pain in the ass to wash out. You kept spare suits at the warehouse so you didn’t walk into your apartment with blood everywhere, but you were tired as hell with the adrenaline gone from earlier. Opting for the next best thing, you pulled on a grey knit turtleneck, black blazer and dress pants, and rejoined your family while you wrapped your hands.

You managed to slip into your seat without Boss stopping, the hums of the monsters sitting across from you loud in your ears. That skeleton from years ago was there, not to your surprise, you wondered how he kept the hat on his head or filled out his clothes if he was just bones. The king and queen of monsters were skyscrapers compared to him however, Asgore was huge even sitting down. Letting your eyes meander, you looked over the rest of the monsters. That being two more skeletons, slimmer and taller than your skeleton, both with cracks in their skulls. One was dressed in a stylish suit while the other was in a similar ensemble to your clothes… he _\- You were assuming their genders, but you didn’t see any indication of them being female._ had glasses tapped, yes _tapped_ to his skull.

Moving on from the skeleton so you didn’t catch anyone’s attention from laughing, you caught eyes with the short, yellow dinosaur with anime swirly glasses and a lab coat. She, _\- she’s wearing a dress_, stared at you openly, pen writing something down that was likely about you or the meeting. The fish woman next to her was glaring at you with a beady yellow eye, the moonlight hitting her blue scales and making the light dance off them as she crossed her arms. You liked her immediately, copying her position and flexing your own muscles, raising a brow in a challenge. She smiled, revealing sharp, knife-point teeth when Asgore stood.

”We’ll look into it, in the meantime. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you all.” Boss and the King shook hands, the monster’s hand engulfing your old man’s with ease. You refused to think of the strength behind these guys and stood with the rest of your family, mentally preparing for the scolding you were going to get when the queen went right up to you. She looked down at you with a gentle smile, reminding you of your mother, who you could feel her eyes and everyone else’s on you.

” Human, may I see your hands?” You blinked up at her, unfolding your arms and showing your wrapped limbs. Her hands _\- Paws? Paws._ were lined with soft, white fur and ended with pointed claws. You had wrapped your hands with little care, some open wounds still exposed to the open air but nothing bled. Taking down three men and tying them to chairs earned you more scrapes and bruises than usual, but you would shrug it off and move on, like you always did.

”Don’t be afraid…” She muttered, a subtle green light grew stronger and encompassed your hands while they sat in hers, the skin visibly knitting itself together before your eyes. Dulled snaps reached your ears as old injuries righted themselves, having broken your fingers enough times to disfigure them permanently without corrective surgery. Throwing out that possibility since your knuckles looked better than they had in years within minutes of the Queen healing you with **magic.**

”Thank-thank you.” You stuttered out, hands retreating when the magic faded away, the skin of your hands scared over and joints realigned. The Queen smiled, patting your head like a child. “It’s no problem, take care now.” You kept your head bowed as she and the rest of the monster court left, not moving until the door closed with an echoing _**Clack!**_

It was then that you remembered your family was in the warehouse, all staring at you while you stroking the healed flesh of your hands. They didn’t hurt, didn’t feel wrong when you stretched them, and nothing clicked as you flexed your fingers. Either the queen wanted you to be indebted to her, or she had something big and she needed you for it. _\- Or she did it out of the kindness of her Soul, dumbass._ You looked to you family and saw the fire in Boss’s eyes, letting out a sigh, you sat down and waiting for the storm of your old man’s anger to blow over.

~~

Sans normally road with his brothers, but he wanted to ask Toriel some questions. Mainly why she helped Reaper? That human was pretty dangerous, even for a monster. The stuttering could be an act or some kind of deception tactic to underestimate them- oh who was he kidding? Sans couldn’t make heads nor tails of the human, they went from casual, into a rage so dark it changed their Soul, to a stuttering mess at the hands of the queen.

”tori, i gotta ask ya somethin’, ‘bout that human.” She didn’t even look away from the road as they drove off, shoulders sagging at the sight of the monster district ahead. “They were hurt, and I want Slim’s co-operation. He may be an honest human, but I know he’s hiding something. May as well do something for him to be indebted to us.” There was the schemer Sans knew and he let conversation drop there, but why was his Soul uncomfortable with it her leverage being _that_ human?


	7. Down With The Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I'm sick, so is Jo.

After the first meeting, the trade between the Monster’s Court took off like a rocket and Boss had several meetings with the various members of the group. Most of which, you had to skip out on. The snow melted and so your vicious allergies were taking their sweet-ass time in putting you through hell. Nothing but staying home and sleeping made you feel better and you had literally kicked your brothers out of your apartment because of how loud they were, making your headache worse.

”We gotta make sure you’re taking your meds and eating, Jo. At least be thankful we’re such good brothers.” Sure, by purposefully talking too loud, dropping shit on the floor, and overdramatizing their fuss over you, they cared _so much_. With threatening to hack up mucus on their shoes, they left you in blissful peace, Al’s Demo tracks playing smooth pieces filled your silence. He had come home for Christmas break and announce he had signed onto a record label and was in progress of making his first album. He gave everyone CD’s of his demo tracks to listen to.

After a surprise four hour nap, you dug through your medicine cabinet to find out the cough syrup you had, was expired. _\- Likely for plot convenience? Yeah._ Debating either going back to sleep or going out and buying more, you threw the expired crap away and put some pants on. The sun had set and you weren’t feeling up for driving, snagging your brass knuckles on the way out the door.

As much as you respected retail workers for putting up with a lot of bullshit, you wanted to kick this kid’s brace face in for taking so long. The lights in the store were killing your eyes and the poor fucker had the _audacity_ to ask for your i.d., you’re getting cough syrup, for Stars’ sake! A glare from you go the kid moving and you walked out, taking in a breath of cold air to calm down. Was it smart to go out and buy stuff in another territory near midnight? No, but your allergy-addled brain didn’t give a singular shit as you started your trek home, sneezing and coughing when the wind blew pollen up in your face.

~~

”YOU’VE MET THEM BEFORE AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHO THEY WERE? SANS, YOU IDIOT!” Sans groaned, telling Papyrus that he’d met Reaper before was one of the dumbest things he’s done since coming to the surface. “not like i knew who they were, paps. it was five years ago.” None of Sans’s reasoning could stop his brother’s minor tantrum, though he had good reason to not tell anyone.

”wasn’t important at the time. could’ve gotten sent a _message_ if i wasn’ careful.” That made the taller skeleton stop, his jaw clacking shut as he turned his head, arms crossed defiantly. “YOU STILL SHOULD’VE MENTIONED A STRANGE HUMAN, BROTHER. WE-NYEH!” Papyrus was cut off by a body being thrown out of the alleyway to the brothers’ feet. It was Reaper, looking out of character with an oversized sweater and sweats and not a suit, a glint of metal caught their eyes as the human got up and charged into the alleyway. The two looked at each other, then into the alleyway.

Reaper jumped and swung at two humans, both who moved out of their way and ganged up in beating them down. Seeing his human _\- Wait his human? Attack now, ponder later._ getting caught in an unfair fight made his Soul flare, magic spilling out of his socket. 

”The Reaper dies-huh?” The human didn’t finish his sentence as Sans encased him with magic, flinging him into the human beside him and crushing them both against the wall. Reaper whirled around, a hazy look in their eyes as Sans did a quick CHECK.

**’Reaper’**

**LV. 5**

**EXP: 57**

**HP: 15/258**

** _’They’re hate two things; allergies and assholes.’_ **

Ok, Sans didn’t really know what allergies were, but their HP was concerning, spurring him to make the fight quick, ending it with a flick of his wrist. Papyrus had barely summoned a Bone Attack when the fight was finished, and without yelling at him, Paps went over to Reaper. It was just in time as their legs gave out, falling into his grip.

”HUMAN?!”

~~

The _one fucking_ night you go out off duty and rivaling ass-monkeys decide to jump you while you head spins. You fended them off, losing your purchases as you swung and jumped around, your head doing numbers on you as all the moving had your vision going spotted. You weren’t going down without a fight but this was one hell of an uphill battle, pain all over as you tried swinging wildly, desperate to hit something.

The man said something but your ears were static, when he was covered by a red glow and squished into the wall with his partner between them. You turned and saw ‘The Judge’ and ‘The Captain’ aka two of the three skeletons, who’ve you resorted in calling ‘Mr. Bones’ and ‘Scarface’. Mr. B’s sockets were something to marvel at in your illness screwed mind, one was empty, its hollowness highlighted by the streetlights from the road, the other was a roaring bright red, a smoke-like haze flowing out of it. _\- Pretty…_ Your mind added like the weird goblin it was in the state you were in.

Scarface had a glow in his hand, but canceled it as he approached you when you just… lost your grip. Your vision fading out as gravity pulls you down, really hoping you didn’t land in anything. You did that enough ten years ago.

~~

_”Where’s my meds? My head feels like shit… more importantly, where am I?” You blinked while checking yourself for anything broken or hurt, the only thing giving you trouble was your sinuses, being stuffed and inflamed like no tomorrow. You groaned, bringing up your hands in an attempt to massage the useless organ in your face._

__

__

”yer up, ere’ drink this. it’ll ‘elp wit the human thing ya got.” Your eyes snapped to the voice, seeing the beady red eyelights of your skeleton friend, The Judge, holding out a comically small thermos to you. The steam and smell coming from it threw off your suspicions of it being poisoned and you swiped it from his phalanges, it was Sea Tea. Supposed to have healing properties that human scientists couldn’t figure out and monsters only gave the explanation of magic, you’ve had this before when Rabbitha brought it in for you. A lesson had been given at the expense of your nose and two fingers being broken, the next shift and the monster shoved a thermos in your hand and told you it would help. It did.

Signing a thank you, you drained the thermos in one go, feeling the minor aches and pains fade with your congestion, letting out a sigh as you finished it off. Judge looking at you like you grew a second head while putting the thermos to the side table

**Where’s my phone?** He pulled said device from his pocket, handing it to you with a brow raised. “ya ain't gonna ask where you are? anythin’ like that?” You shrugged, figuring that they probably brought you to a safe location. Four missed calls from Mom, two from Boss and Michael, and three texts from Vinciet, you expected more, looking to your savior with a gesture to your phone.

”right, yer phone was blowin’ up and my bro told me ta answer it ‘fore he smashed it. talked to yer boss, explained what happened.” You had half a mind to slap a skeleton but figured it would hurt you more than him. **Boss was going to be pissed at me no matter the outcome, but thanks for telling him.** He nodded, the two of you falling into an awkward silence as you tried to figure out what to do next. It took you too long than you’d care to admit before you realized your sweater was missing, leaving you shirtless and in sweats.

You were comfortable with your body but not with being half naked in front of some guy that you’ve met a handful of times, crossing your arms over your chest and looking up to avoid the mild heat rushing to your face. He caught on with your discomfort, got up, and dug through the wardrobe by the door.

”ere’ its my bro’s, yer sweater wasn't salvageable with all the blood and garbage. ‘m sans, figured ya didn’t catch a name wit bein’ absent ‘n all.” Sans tossed you a large maroon knit sweater, stopping before leaving the room entirely. “bro’s makin’ breakfast downstairs, it's quite _egg_cellent if ya ask me.” You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of you laughing but the humor was right up your alley, the door closed and you just sat there with the sweater pressed into your face to muffle your undignified snort. You would have given Sans a _toast_ if you knew him _butter_, but now you were really _milk_ing your own humor. Ah _crust._


	8. Breakfast Club

”IS THE HUMAN AWAKE? GASTER ISN’T KEEN ON KEEPING THEM IF THEY AREN’T WAKING UP.” Papyrus looked at his brother while wiping his hands, Sans seemed perplexed in answering. “they’re up, drank all that sea tea ya made ‘n probably gonna be down ere’ inna second. ol’ man don’t need his coccyx inna twist.” Sans ignored his brother’s groan and perpetual rant of how poor his humor was, but he was more focused on how the human reacted to his joke, how their Soul grew brighter when the joke clicked. They didn’t express it outwardly but he knew they liked his joke.

In his musings, Sans almost missed the human passing by him when dark curls past his vision, observing as they pass him with little hesitation. They walked straight to the island bar to Paps, signing to him, their back to Sans so he couldn’t see.

”WHY I AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, HUMAN JO! YOU’VE MET MY USELESS BROTHER SANS AND OUR OLDEST BROTHER IS W. D. GASTER!” Papyrus finished with a flourish, wanting to impress the human, _\- Jo, simple name for a mystery…_ and set down a plate piled high with breakfast. Sans didn’t need to CHECK to see how they brighten when they ate his brother’s food, thankful that his cooking skills had drastically improved since coming to the Surface.

~~

You didn’t know how to approach this type of situation, you’ve gotten the snot beaten out of you before but usually one the crew or your brothers came and scraped your ass off the street and took you to the sector’s medical team or the hospital. You were tempted to sneak out like you did for the rare one night stand or getting you drunk crew members home, but Scarface made breakfast and you didn’t want to be that asshole that skips out on a homemade meal.

Letting that bounce around your head you pulled the sweater over your head and spotted your appearance in the mirror on the door. Now you understood why Sans gave you the Sea Tea, yellow and black bruises sat all over your face and neck. You were sure that if you took off the sweater they would be there too, so you let out a mild sneeze and walked out.

Taking in the simplistic design of the open style home, there were more doors on one side of the hall and the staircase on the other. You could see Sans standing in the living room just… really standing there, must of fell asleep standing or in outer space with how he didn’t react to you coming down the stairs and walking past him. You walked straight to the breakfast bar where Scarface was watching you intently while you pulled yourself up onto a stool.

**Good morning, I’m Jo. I didn’t catch your family’s names, care to fill me in?** And he did so with a flourish you couldn’t help but smile at, Papyrus set down a plate piled with two slices of toast each with two poached eggs and three pancakes with the right amount of syrup and melting butter on top. The moment the food hit your tastebuds it felt that you died and gone to heaven, the heaviness of doubt detaching its claws from your Soul. You couldn’t put your fork down until the last bit of pancake was off your plate and in your mouth.

**That was amazing! Thank you for the food, Papyrus.** You signed his proper name sign, _\- Now the you had his name and weren’t just calling by an old Mobster name._ the letter ‘P’ with moving your hand over your left eye three times. You were still referencing his scars but now you had his name with it! He seemed pleased with either himself or with your name sign, you couldn’t tell as he took your plate. That when Sans broke from his stupor and sat next to you, a brow bone high looking at you.

”how are ya handlin’ all this? can’t be easy wakin’ up inna stanger’s house.” You shrugged, a sneeze escaping you that turned into a coughing fit which ended with _another_ sneeze. Papyrus handed you a glass of water with a paper towel, you blew your nose and downed the water, blinking blearily as your senses were jumbled around by your allergies. A trash bin was pushed into your leg and the roll of paper towels were set in front of you.

”I THOUGHT GREEN MAGIC WOULD HELP WITH THE HUMAN’S SICKNESS, WAS I WRONG?” Papyrus’s loud voice was muffled in your ears as a hand settled on your shoulder, a smooth, even hum echoed by a way you could only chalk up to magic. “You’re half right, Papyrus. Jo’s symptoms are, however, are caused by something that magic can regulate but not cure.” You looked up at the Doctor, Gaster merely smiling at his brother with a calm aura surrounding him. The glasses were taped to his face again and you wanted to laugh at its absurdity.

“Allergies affect many humans, it is that season I’m assuming by your condition?” You nodded, blowing your nose again when he let go of your shoulder. Papyrus seemed awkward before scoffing. “HUMANS ARE SO WEAK THAT THE ENVIRONMENT CAN HARM THEIR SQUISHY, PATHETIC BODIES.” Without thinking past _\- Wow, thanks asshole._, you glared at the tall skelton, getting out of your seat when Sans slapped a hand on your shoulder. His eyelights gone so you just stared into empty pits, feeling a heavy weight fall over your Soul.

**”i wouldn’ try that if i was you, pal. _unless ya want ta ‘ave a b a d t i m e.”_** His already deep voice dropped an octave with the threat, which you blinked at then turned to avoid sneezing on his face. You needed to go home and take your meds. **Can I go? I need to get medicine and check in with my crew before they send out a missing person’s report.** You signed to Gaster, shrugging your shoulder out of Sans’s grip. The doctor seated himself at a dining room table with a newspaper and coffee in hand, a bemused look on his face.

”My brothers told me you were jumped, you are not afraid of that happening again? I want to know why targeted you in the first place.” He had a point but you lived so close to the border that the chance of it happening was slim, but you weren’t going to tell them where you lived. **I’m the Reaper, I send a message and piss people off on occasion because of it. The attacks only happen at night so I’m in the clear for that.** You signed how the groups you targeted are cowards and often go after people when they have the advantage, such as the attack on you last night. That had everyone’s hum jump a pitch, you suppressing a wince with the sudden change.

”We are quite far from the border, even if you left now, the sun would set long before then. Please allow one of my brothers drive you home, Jo.” You peeked out of a window in the direction of the mountain and sure enough, the view was much closer than the one from your little balcony. From what Rabbitha has told you, life underground was something many monsters were more than happy to leave behind, which has a large amount of the monster population living in or around Ebbot City. Taking a guess, you’d say that it would be a twenty minute drive to reach the entrance, comparing that to the hour drive from your apartment complex, Paps and Sans had to haul your ass over thirty miles to their house while you were either unconscious or delirious with your extreme allergies.

”i’ll take them, let’s go dollface.” The pet name wasn’t one used by your few friends or relatives, so the confusion showed on your face as you waved to the two brothers and followed Sans out to his car. Seeing Gaster stand with Papyrus had to quietly reeling at how the oldest was shorter than the youngest, which screamed your family. Michael was only a half inch shorter than you and Alphonse but you still gave him all the short people jokes while Vinciet used all of you as armrests with his being the same height as Bobby. Sans was taller and bigger than them but Paps and Gaster were taller than him by a good margin. The only monsters taller than them were the King and Queen.

The car was a black convertible, classic and understandable with how tall these guys were. Only issue was that you had to hop a bit to get in, but you hid that with lifting yourself in like it was no big deal. The seats were comfy and slightly worn from use, but the leather still shone like new along with the interior.

”where’s that store ya get yer meds from? i’ll take ya there.” You didn’t feel like protesting so you wrote down the store’s name, spacing out as the mountain grew smaller in the rearview mirror. Not wanting to distract Sans from driving, you left him alone, not realising you dozed off when he tapped your shoulder and you were parked in front of the pharmacy.

”i don’t know what ya need, dollface. i’ll leave the _doctorin’_ to you.” You rolled your eyes at the bad joke and hopped out, ignoring the look from the sleep deprived kid from the night before and got the shit you needed. Lifting yourself back into the car with your replaced cough syrup and gel pain relief, wrote down your address for Sans, then swallowing the pain relief dry to _drive_ off the headache forming.

**Thanks for the ride, Sans. Bye.** Not so subtly sneezing as you hopped out, his name sign getting interrupted by another sneeze, then repeating the action. You mulled over his name sign during the drive to the pharmacy, but you sufficed with the letter ‘S’ that transitioned to the sign for ‘smoke’ but you did it at eye level, a reference to what you guessed was his magic. The image, albeit hazy, of him with the glowing red socket stuck with you and you decided to incorporate it into how you identified him. From how he squinted then slacked his features into an ‘oh ok then’ face, you were debating on inviting him in or leaving. In his own way, _\- and you had to admit it now, or suffer it rearing up at 2AM_ Sans was handsome, hell his family was full of handsome skeletons and you’ve only learned their actual names not even an hour ago!

Once in the comfort of your apartment, you immediately took your meds, _\- responsibly. Take your meds responsibly, everyone!_ showered up, and texted your family that you were home safe and taking a nap so your brothers wouldn’t barge in and be dismembered when you snapped. With the curtains drawn tight and your fan blowing cool air around, you drifted off, a red eye glowed in the distance of your dreams.

~~

Sans let out a deep sigh when he pulled into the driveway of his house, he’d looked over at Jo during the drive and saw them sleeping. It wasn’t like when they were unconscious in his brother’s bed, when he was unsure that they were going to wake up or not. Jo seemed so calm, different from the blackened Soul from years ago or the business serious Reaper from passings and meetings, Sans almost didn’t wake them up when he pulled up to the pharmacy. He waited five minutes before tapping their shoulder, chuckling when they rolled their eyes at his bad joke.

The thing that struck him was Jo’s name sign for him, it was different from the kid’s but Stars above, they involved his eye, his magic. They remembered _that_ detail from the fight? And decided it was his identifier? He had CHECKed their Soul when they walked off and Jo only seemed content, tired but content. No fear or anticipation. Maybe the content was from being within feet of their home. Which if Sans remembered correctly, the Mahoney family were rolling in cash so why did the adopted mystery of the family live in a cheap apartment five minutes from the border?

”DID THE JO HUMAN MAKE IT HOME SAFE? WE DON’T NEED THEIR FAMILY TO THINK WE KIDNAPPED THEM.” Sans cut to fridge, grabbing a bottle of mustard before cutting to the stairs. Papyrus was reading on the couch and Gaster was probably in the lab again. “yeah, they ain’t too far from the border.” Sans shuffled his way up to his room, throwing off his ‘professional’ appearance and falling into his pile of blankets. Heat gathering in his cheekbones when he thought back to their sneezes, how could Jo, tough-as-nails human with a weird Soul, make a gross human function seem so cute?


	9. Running with The Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a bit, life does this thing where shit gets complicated.

Allergy season ended with you getting swamped with messages needing to be delivered and enough interrogations from your family to last you a life sentence in prison. Not that you would tell them that but your lackluster answers weren’t enough for them, Boss even sicked his wife, your mom, on you to get better answers about the skeletons. By the time the 6th anniversary of Surface Day rolled around, you had sent enough messages that you felt like a worn out spam bot on someone’s email account. However, you just rolled with the punches, literally and metaphorically, when your old man called you in on a day off.

**I’ve only had four hours of sleep, this better be good.** You spotted Sans, alone this time, with the boss and you could _feel_ what was coming. Some bullshit assignment that Boss was sending you on to either get more info on the skeletons, or this was some co-op that the queen and boss put together to build _‘trust’_ between the court and the crew. You glared at your pops while he explained, feeling Sans’s gaze on you and his bass hum raise a pitch.

”I know I said you could have the day off, but this is an emergency message that I need you and the Judge to take care of by the end of the night.” He handed you the file and dismissed you both, you motioned Sans to follow you as you read the file, feeling the tall skeleton look over your shoulder. With the full file, you only looked over the essentials; appearance, provided via a photo, location where they were waiting, what time you needed to be there, and Vinciet’s notes at the back.

Your brother started adding these notes after one too many people being dead when they should’ve been alive and vice versa, the old man’s words got confusing when you got older. That confusion has gotten you into trouble, so your bro added the notes that specified whether or not you had to maim or kill your target.

With a sticky note and a pen, you wrote what you did normally with message assignments and handed the file to Sans, doing a three pattern knock on Old One Eye’s door to his arsenal office and storage. Wheezy geezer was long past his fighting prime but still had enough respect lying around to keep his place in the crew, though Boss was always cryptic about _how_ exactly the old fart joined or how long he’s been running the arsenal. You never really questioned it since One Eye has always looked like he’s been pushing ninety, even when you were a violent upstart.

**One Eye is weary around strangers, stay here.** You pushed inside and got your shit with minimal questioning from the old man, leaving with your trusty brass knuckles and a retractable security baton you swiped from the police station in junior year on a dare. Alphonse was bored and dared you to do it, not thinking that you would get yourself arrested and released with the baton stuffed down your pants, a smug smirk on your face when you pulled it out to show him.

Walking back out, you motioned Sans to follow you as the two of you walked out and in the direction of your destination. The hoodie you wore had holes in elbow and the left sleeve was hanging on by a few stitches at the shoulder. It didn’t help that you forewent a shirt entirely because the call woke you out of a dead sleep and managed to change into jeans before leaving. Eh, you knew the gal, she would be an easy message.

**I don’t know why Boss sent you with me on this, the girl we’re going after is soft. She’ll be easy message and I’ll be sleeping by the next hour.** You spun around to sign, still walking backwards. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the lights, but for a second you saw the red haze flowing over his eye socket. A few blinks took the haze away to reveal that he was smoking a cigar, how exactly you didn’t know and wanted to ask.

”i know, the queen wanted me ta do this wit ya so she could pay back the shit ya did for rabbitha and her family.” You wrinkled your nose in confusion, Rabbitha was your coworker and friend, the things you did for her were outside of business. **She’s my friend, no need for payback.** Sans deflated at what you said, smoke puffing out of his nasal cavity. It wasn’t nicotine like you thought, it was a more earthy smell with a sweet twist to it. Kind of makes you want to sneeze.

”yea, that’s da cover story the queen told me ta give. figure ya wouldn’ believe it, ‘m supposed ta be gatherin’ info on you and yer family.” You shrugged, most information gathering done on your family was on your old man and brothers, most pushed you to the side because you weren’t blood and a pain in the ass.

**Anything interesting? I want to know if you got any dirt on my brothers I can use later.** You chuckled, stopping at the door of your destination, the mood dropping as you told the skeleton that you were here. **I’ll do most of the work. You got some way of getting us out of here incase police show up?** He nodded, a flash of his magic taking his cigar out of existence.

~~

”yea, i know a few shortcuts.” Sans watched Jo go from the easy going, little shit sibling to The Reaper when they arrived at the warehouse their target was waiting in. The tension rising in their shoulders, smile dropping, and their Soul darken. Jo motioned to him to stay quiet, stuffing their hands in their pockets as they entered the warehouse, Sans behind them for protection and dramatic effect. The Soul of their target was a dull light blue, a patient middle-aged woman glaring at her phone before looking up to see a disheveled, exhausted adult with a looming skeleton in a suit behind them.

”You, you’re late what the hell-...” She stopped as Jo stepped up, pulling their hands out to reveal brass knuckles, light glinting off the metal as they swung. “Message for you.” Their voice was different, rough still but it held a dark tone. Sans stayed off to the side as Jo landed one more punch before straightening up, turning to him with dulled eyes.

**Think I’m done?** They were asking him if they were done? Sans shrugged, little more interested by the thick muscle that hid beneath the thin sweater Jo had on. Even though he got a decent socket full when Papyrus had to cut away the human’s sweater that fateful night, Sans wanted to know how the power behind their larger frame came to be and how the hell they moved so fast. Most other humans were small and looked like Jo could snap them in half with their bare hands, they probably could if their Soul got dark enough. Others who share a similar frame seemed slow and their bulk was different from Jo’s, then again his own bulk wasn’t made from raw strength and muscle either.

”Just somethin’ to show your place.” The dark chuckle from Jo had Sans look over just in time to see them grab the lady by the ear and a sickening tear accompanied by her retching scream. Good thing the sweater was black, as blood spurted across Jo’s face and hand while they dropped her unconscious body to the floor. In the dim, flickering lights of the warehouse, Sans saw a different side of the human. Their Soul showed bright against their back, face almost contemplative as Jo held the ear up to the light. An earring dangled off of the lobule and reflected onto the ground, fractures of light seemed to dance off of Jo’s blood-splattered face. In some strange, twisted way it looked like an art piece you’d find in a museum, but Sans got to be the only witness of the spectacle. His trance broken when Jo appeared before him with panic in their eyes, grabbing his arm with their clean hand.

”Get us out, do it now! She’s a cop!” The windows lit up in the tell-tale flashing lights as they said that, Sans readjusted Jo’s grip and dug his phalanges into their shoulder. “hang on and **don’t let go.**” Feeling their hand grip tighter, Sans tore a hole and jumped through, dragging Jo with him. Shortcuts took Sans to places he’s been before and have to be within a certain diameter from his original location, he worried about the effects of the Void on his traveling companion having only pulled Frisk through shortcuts. The Void consisted of an empty, black space that sat between the spaces of different universes, according to Gaster that's what it is. Frisk pulled him out of it after being trapped in there for centuries, to the point everyone but Sans forgot who Gaster was or if he even existed. The kid even revived the dead prince at the price of their power of Resets and Loads, even with their powers gone, Sans still feared one day he’d wake up back underground.

A growing warmth pulled his sight back to Jo, eyes wide looking around before settling back to look Sans in the sockets. At this distance, he could see the golden brown reflecting the red glare from his own sockets, faded scars of fights cut through the few sunspots dotting their face.

The fluorescent lights of the warehouse drowned out the suffocating darkness of the Void as the two stumbled into the Mahoney warehouse, Jo moving further than expected and the sound of ripping fabric caught everyone’s attention. He had ripped the last stitches and exposed their arm while Jo tore a small whole from the seam on his jacket, Sans couldn’t stop his sockets from latching onto the numerous scars and fading bruises that dotted Jo’s open skin. The two let go other each other, Jo letting the sleeve come off with a sigh of annoyance while Sans fumbled his pockets for some smokes, needing to take the edge off from what just happened.

”What the hell is going on here?”


	10. Get Out Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also lmao, I wanna know if any of you thought Jo was skinny of chiseled from marble. I like to imagine them with more of a dad bode, or heavyweight boxer build. Y'know, thicc

What you expected from Sans for an escape route, pulling you through a ripe in the fabric of reality had been one of the lesser things you thought of. The first was something close to what most rogue characters in your nephew’s video games used, shadow stepping and the like. The absence of light surrounding the two of you had you looking around to see anything in the endless abyss, only to focus on the Skeleton in front of you. Seeing the red eyelights in his sockets as the only source for the time being, highlighting old dents and scratches along the otherwise smooth skull, comparing his head to an actual human skull conjured by the twisted part of your brain that held you interest in anatomy class. The fused jaw that you know can open, portions of Sans’s skull that made him look a bit cartoonish with how much larger he was compared to most, feeling hard bone beneath the layers of fabric in your hand. The sharp teeth with the golden tooth, shadows that held those pretty red eyelights reminding you that Sans wasn’t human in the first place, there was nothing to compare him to.

Fluorescent lights hit your eyes with the sound of ripping fabric as you stumbled back farther than what was intended, feeling eyes on your arm while you inspected the damage you did to the skeleton’s suit jacket. An easy fix, as you let go and pulled the useless sleeve off your arm and stuffed it into your pocket to sew back on later, you liked this sweater. The hum from Sans jumped as your brother called out from his post.

”What the hell is going on here? Where did you two come from?” Michael made his way over to you two as you signed from your spot turning to see him. **That girl was a cop, Sans saved us a trip to the police station.** You held the ear you still had up to your brother, pulling the hidden earpiece from its place. His made a face and pulled an evidence bag from his pocket for the old man to look at later, patting your non-blood-covered shoulder in assurance.

”We’ll need to get you out of town for a while since I’m sure that snitch knows your face, Pops should be here in ten so get cleaned up.” You moved ask about the skeleton standing behind you when Michael moved his head to look around you. “The human police can’t touch monsters without going through your Royal Guard, so you can go, Big Guy. Unless you have something to contribute to getting Reaper out of the limelight for a couple months” You turned back to Sans, idling scratching at the dried blood irritating your skin. He stuck his hands in his pockets, popping a few more stitches in the torn sleeve at the force, rolling an unlit cigarette between his teeth.

”doc is suppose to come for some papers and me, he’ll want to hear ‘bout what happened and ‘ave some input on your situation.” You let Michael show him to a spot he could sit and smoke while you went, grab some clothes and a sewing kit before washing up. Mom taught you how to fix your own clothes after ripping the sleeve of your first tailored suit in a scuffle, it made it easier on your wallet and it didn’t rouse suspicion from the tailors who knew you by name by the time you got the hang of stitching your shit back together. The least you could do is save Sans a couple bucks and fix his jacket for him, and fix your sweater while your at it as well.

~~

”You can sit here while we wait for Doc and the boss man. Reaper gets a lot of snacks from their monster friend so you can have those.” Sans expected run down furniture and outdated appliances instead of the various futons, recliners, couches, and loveseats that lined the walls with a kitchen walled off by two industrial refrigerators. Blankets thrown over the backs of the furniture with small boxes on each side serving as both tables and shoe storage, if the signs next to them proved anything.

”Graveyard shifts are a bitch, so we allow people to sleep here so they don't crash from snoozing at the wheel. I have a shift to finish but Reaper should be back soon.” Sunny disappeared behind the squeaking door, leaving Sans alone in the empty room. Picking the largest, overstuffed couch, he sighed when the framework didn’t groan under his bulk, letting himself lean back and rub his sockets. Paps was definitely going to shit a brick when he hears what happened, being the captain of the Royal Guard meant he would have to deal with the human police force, according to him they didn’t know how to do their job and arrested people for the dumbest shit or charging them with false information, using unnecessary force where it wasn’t needed. Those that were paid by the gangs stayed out of trouble or caused trouble for rivals.

The door squeaking open pulled him from his thoughts, Jo stepped in with a box under their arm looking as tired as he felt when they pulled a folding table from behind one of the recliners and sat next to him. The box turned out to be a sewing kit, which had a reeling effect when in the bandaged, bruised hands of the human. A delicate craft seemed too vanilla for Jo, looking like they should be hauling product at the docks or something physical aside from fighting. Nimble fingers thread the needle and tied it off.

”Your jacket, I’ll fix the sleeve.” They rasped, voice sounding strained unlike what Sans heard in the warehouse when they grabbed him. “ya don’t ‘ave to, it’s an easy fix.” They gave him a look, a knowing one he recognized with ease, Sans chuckled as he shrugged out of the jacket with another two pops from the seam giving out.

”if ya wanted me ta strip, get me dinner first.” The faint scar that crossed over their lips wrinkled as Jo snorted, taking the large jacket from him, calloused, warm fingers brushed his phalanges. Sans distracted himself with lighting his cigarette, taking a slow drag to gather his thoughts.

”where you learn ‘ow ta sew? seems like a _ needle_ in ya foot with your other works. _seams_ like you got a _sew_-lid crew, can they get you in better _threads?_” He tried the puns again, watching Jo paused mid-thread before pressing their face into his coat, shoulders shaking as their Soul went bright. Sans couldn’t grin wider when he heard a snort muffled from the fabric, pulling on his coat to get it away from the human’s face.

”ya _seamstressed_ there pal. good to know i can get types like you in _stitches._” Jo elbowed him, face popping up in a mock glare ruined by their smile, chuckles rolling off them as they continued stitching the rip. Sans took their distraction as an opportunity to look over the features that really made up Jo. Eyes that seemed to swirl and glint pure gold in the light, the color wasn’t common for humans, some had eyes that looked like gold in the sunlight but Jo’s seemed to just be that way in any lighting. They shaved their hair when the heat hit but it was slowly beginning to curl again. Watching them close the hole and tie it off before handing Sans his jacket back, lips curled ever the slightest.

”Reaper, Judge, there you are. Sunny said something about the target being a cop, care to elaborate?” Slim walked in with Gaster in tow, their Souls both elevated by similar emotions while Jo packed up the kit and put the table away. “things were goin’ as expected when reaper found an earpiece in the bitch’s ear. got us out of there as the lights went up.” Sans explained, giving Jo a break from talking. Slim sighed while Gaster looked intently at the two of them, brow bone raised at the closeness neither of them realized. Sans scooted over to give Jo some space.

”I’m running out of places to send you when the police have warrants that stretch further than usual, with your track record. Sending you to live with Keys is out of the question.” Jo huffed at his side, flexing their hand idly, eyes going out of focus. Sans could see their Soul grow dimmer as Slim went on about how difficult it gets to hide someone with Jo’s job and how they go about it. Gaster and he shared a look, earning an exasperated sigh before a nod, he stood up, cutting Slim off.

”we ‘ave a safehouse reaper can use until the feds get off their back. course there will be somethin’ either you or they have to do in return. fer now, we should get them to said safehouse.” Jo stood behind him, ready to leave if their Soul showed anything by it, something humans never could hide from a monster, let alone Sans, was their Soul expression. Jo couldn’t be more happy to get away from their boss. “We’ll discuss things at a later date with the King, until then. Goodnight.” Gaster finished promptly, following the two out to their cars.

”Sans, you head home. I’ll go with Reaper to collect their things.” Sans hesitated to go, not wanting to leave Jo alone with his mad scientist brother, but drove anyway. His action did not go unnoticed by Gaster as he settled into the passenger side of the human’s car. Alone, Gaster got a better look at Jo’s Soul, Souls in a resting state were different than in a conscious state. They dimmed and brightened, they reacted when the human did not, Souls showed _intent_ and whether or not the human went through with it, it showed. The only way for their Soul expression to be hidden is if a monster shields them with their magic, whether one or both parties know it or not. Sans likely didn’t know or show that he knew, but his magic guarded Jo’s Soul, hiding everything from Gaster up until Sans drove away.

~~

”You’re not far from the border, that’s makes this much easier.” Gaster spoke absently as you parked your car, a sigh escaping you. Every time you had to go into hiding, you moved to a different area of the city, within the boundaries of the Mahoney territory of course. You liked this apartment and the convenience of its location, that and you still had four months left on the lease, now wasted because of some snitch. At least you left your mark on her, that almost, _almost_ made up for it.

**Where is this safehouse? Am I allowed to know?** You signed while you had his attention, Gaster adjusted his sleeves nonchalantly, his hum remained an even, cool tone the entire ride. “You’ll be hiding in plain sight really. Find out when we get there.” And left it at that, to the point, you needed to find more guys like this one.

The inside of your apartment hadn’t changed much from when you moved in after graduation. A daybed shoved into the corner by the closet, a nightstand that doubled as a mini bookshelf sat between the bed and the door to a small balcony. The kitchen area made clear by the tile paneling and not the hardwood that covered the rest of the apartment, it too was simple and to the point.

Your caffeine addiction fed by the coffee maker on the counter, mom came over and the two of you would have midday coffee and catch up with Alphonse over facetime. The living room didn’t have a tv until you started babysitting your nieces and nephew, Ricky loved video games and the girls watched baking shows before bed. It took away space for your books and vinyl but anything was tolerable if it meant those three were happy.

”I’ll pack up.” You managed gruffly, your throat was not going to be happy tomorrow. Thanks to a number of injuries to the head and neck during your line of work, the doctors diagnosed you with Transcortical motor aphasia which cut your already shortened speech to roughly four words a sentence unless you said a phrase you’ve practiced enough times. They all scratched their asses when it came to trying to find out when or how it exactly happened since you’ve been injured and gone untreated for the majority of your life. Since graduating, you’ve gone to Ebbot City Hospital twice and the second time was to get diagnosed, other than that you’ve just gone to local clinics or the little med team that the old man kept around for quick fixes.

Pulling two duffle bags and a backpack out, you packed away a good amount of clothes, some shoes, bathroom essentials, and your meds. The backpack had a bunch of books and a photo album mom put together after you got violently homesick from being in hiding for ten months, making sure it stayed up to date for whenever you had to go hide again. Gaster paid no mind to the thick, leather bound book with a tree engraved on the front, nor did he often to carry your bags which you weren’t gonna let him in the first place. You shot off one last text to those who needed to know and set your phone and keys on the counter.

”Done? Alright, hold on and don’t let go of me. This will be unpleasant, but it’s much faster.” Gaster held out his hand to you, an intimate gesture if taken out of context of your situation. The want for dropping a pun had you straining not to smile at your inner monologue of shitty puns.

_” Gotta **hand** it to you, i **femured** you for a more **spine-ful** fellow. Don’t get too **skull-ky** about **ulna** these **bone-ified** puns I’m sparing your from._


	11. Yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *snorts* No, I totally just wrote this and didn't have it sitting on my google doc because of writer's block....

”Your… House?” You croaked out, recognizing the view of the mountain and the old fashion look of the exterior. The car wasn’t there so that meant Sans hadn’t come home yet. “I did say hiding in plain sight, no? We have a guest room you’ll be staying in. The Human police force doesn’t come this far from the city and the Royal guard know to leave their captain alone. This is the safest place for you.” Gaster held the door open and showed the guest room, which shared a wall with Sans and the bathroom, the washer and dryer sat in the linen closet on the main floor.

”Sans is likely talking to Papyrus or wasting his time at Grillby’s, the boys will be home soon enough. I’d suggest you unpack before either of them get home.” Gaster stood at your door, eyeing your bandaged hands, in watching you, he’s seen more than enough of your Soul. Yet you remained a mystery, Gaster needed to grill his brother on what he knew about you, the human that he’ll be around for the next several months. “I’ll be in the basement if you need anything, don’t go down there, just knock. I’ll hear it.” He stepped away, leaving you to unpack and destress from the sudden changes. You just hoped that the walls were thick enough for your occasional night terror, they haven’t happened in a while but you always had them while going into hiding before things mellowed out.

It took you all of twenty minutes to put all your clothes away and shoes in the dedicated corner of the closet. The night stand held all your meds and bathroom shit, and while there wasn’t a place for you to put your books, you stacked them on top of the dresser, snagging one to read after you got ready for bed. Not budging from your spot when the front door opened and arguing followed.

~~

”SANS, YOU ARE TRULY EMPTY HEADED FOR NOT THINKING THIS THROUGH! THE JO HUMAN CAN HANDLE THEIR OWN, WE DON’T TO GO MEDDLING IN THEIR PERSONAL AFFAIRS. EVEN IF THE HUMAN POLICE ARE INVOLVED.” Sans breathed easier when Papyrus yelled at him for meddling with Jo rather than letting them stay with the brothers while the human hid from the police. “their boss ran outta places ta hide them. i femured hide them inna house full of skeletons and not inna closet.” Sans dodged the swing, setting his bags on the island, Papyrus had gotten off his shift early and decided to get some groceries at eleven at night. Leaving Sans to go pick him up and explain what all went down and how Jo ended up staying with them.

”THAT IS NONE OF MY CONCERN, HOWEVER SINCE THE JO HUMAN HAD BEEN KIND THE FIRST TIME. I WILL ALLOW THEM TO STAY, SO LONG THEY EARN THEIR KEEP.” The two put groceries away, faintly aware of the muffled footfalls on the stairway. Let alone Jo grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water until the rattling of pills caught their attention. Jo ignored them, engrossed in their novel while taking their evening meds. This let Sans run his eyelights up and down their night attire, some fabric shorts and a t-shirt that hugged the built muscles of their arms and shoulders. Papyrus snorting indignantly from behind.

”JO HUMAN, I UNDERSTAND THAT IT'S BEEN A LONG NIGHT FOR YOU BUT I HAVE SOME HOUSE RULES THAT ARE TO BE FOLLOWED BY THE LETTER. DISOBEYING THEM WILL HAVE YOU THROWN OUT OF THE HOUSE!” When they finally looked up from downing the last pill and flipping a page, Sans felt his Soul tighten at the sight of their exhausted expression. **Tomorrow, I’m not feeling well right now. Good night.** He moved to grab them and know why they felt that way but stopped, not wanting to pry into their life that he already knew plenty about.

Alphys had been insistent in getting as much info on the ‘elusive’ Jo Mahoney since their explosive entrance at the meeting. Digging up their adoption records and medical history, even some things that she was confident the human didn’t even know about, and she wasn’t keen on sharing that either. Fucking nutjob.

”They Are Different Now That The Circumstances Have Changed, Should’ve Expected That. Family Runs Deep With Humans, Well Certain Ones.” Paps huffed, putting the last of the groceries away and leaving Sans in the kitchen with his thoughts. The skeleton knew Jo has brothers and two of them have children, were they attached to the kids? Sans hoped that they could stick through the tornado of bullshit headed their way, one that Sans brought down upon them.

~~

_”-- Run! Don’t Stop running! Go!”_ Pain, you never experienced such pain in your life. The screams of the person behind became many, all shouting over each other until they became white noise in your ears. The same feeling began to drown you, liquid too thick to swim through as you lost your fight. Screaming while the lights faded.

You shot up, barely stopping your hand from swinging into the wall beside your bed. Sharp breaths became muffled coughs as you pulled yourself out of bed and downed the last of your water. Taking a moment to try and collect your thoughts of your dreams, a pen and notebook on your dresser being your victims in an attempt to catch the fading memories. The process had been futile in the past but your therapist recommended keeping a dream journal for night terrors or just general nightmares. Half the time they didn’t read your notes as some of your nightmares were fuel for others.

_Why am I like this?_ Your thoughts met by silence as you searched your drug drawer via mini flashlight and plucked you lighter and a few halfers from their container. You never found the desperation for smoking gas station cigarettes, but since your scraps with the drug cartel earned you respect from their leaders. They gave you a discount of their dispensary products, which leaves you with a 60% hybrid strain with 40% all natural tobacco ‘halfers’ that take the edge off from a bad night terror. And boy-fucken-howdy you needed one.

You quietly scold yourself for not letting Papyrus tell you the house rules, not knowing if you could smoke on the porch or if you needed to stand at the end of the laneway like some snake-oil seller. Stepping out onto the porch confirmed your answer in the light of the moon, three large lawn chairs, one with an ashtray on a stand. You settled yourself by leaning on the railing with the ashtray standing next to you, though you did flick your ashes over the edge in your thoughts a few times. You were halfway through your second when the hums from the house got loud.

”human? the hell you up for?” Sans popped out of nowhere but in your mildly unsober state and deep thought process, you didn’t register his presence until a hand brushed your shoulder. **Nightmare. Terrible.** You managed to sign, the shaking of your hands brought up by the horror of unknown depths of your mind. Taking another drag from your halfer while Sans lit his own, the earthy smell pulling the tension from your shoulders.

Silence filled the space between the two of you while you both smoked your stress away, the moon making it’s path along the night sky. The house faced the east, the moon leaving a shadow as the sun began to paint the sky in the distance. Sans stayed within arms reach of you, but neither of you crossed that threshold until a boney thumb wiped your cheek. You were crying and hadn’t realized it.

”Sorry.” You wiped your other cheek with your hand, snuffing out your halfer and straightening up. You muttered about going back to bed when his hand snagged your arm, a few cold bones grazing your skin. “don’t apologize from somethin’ ya shouldn’t have to.” He hesitated, hand flexing at your side, skin alight with electricity from the contact. You couldn’t recall the last time someone touched you in a tender matter, your family never being the touchy-feely folk once a person got to a certain age. You were cut off from an earlier age than Alphonse, likely because of your adopted status or your general distance kept from the family. The little ones were becoming independent, not needing big cousin Jo to help them.

”...c’mere.” Sans pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in his presence, his hum directly in your ear as he tucked your head under his jaw. A shuddering breath escaped you as he ran his hand oh-so carefully over your back and shoulders, the other running over your scalp that had you gripping the back of Sans’s shirt trying not to burst into tears. You felt like a child, even though you didn’t have a memory of ever gripping at mom’s skirts or clinging to the old man’s coat like Alphonse did. The said brother and mom seemed to be the only ones who still bothered to make sure you were functioning outside of being Reaper and babysitting.

Sans still held you as the sun continued painting the sky, breathing with you. Your Soul had never felt lighter, not in a very long time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...That's gay, and I wrote that, so it's extra gay.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so imma explain what I mean by 1920s-ish. I like the idea of the Mob/Mafia/Gangs of that time period, but there are a lot of things I will be incorporating that are modern. So it's more that the style and Mobsters of the 1920s stuck through the decades while everything else kept going; politics, medicine, technology, etc.


End file.
